Forgive me, Father.

ꜰᴀᴡɴ :: ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏᴛᴡᴏ :: ♀

:: ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ :: ᴍᴏɴꜱᴛᴇʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟɪꜱᴛ ::

Heat envelopes you as you lay in bed, sweat beating off your skin as the summer air sinks its claws deep into your bones. It’s ungodly hot. Everytime you move a new wave of heat flushes your body leaving you a writhing annoyed mess. That is until a cool caress against your ankle makes you jolt. Nothings there, just a ray of light spilling in through your blinds. But the cold touch travels up your calf and then to your thigh. You think it could just be a cool breeze, one of those mysterious things no one can explain- but then it slips under your tank-top. The cold touch travels up your belly and to your breasts. The refreshing chill travels through your chest and down to your core.

You’re too busy relishing the feeling that you hardly notice as that cold touch dips down between your thighs, frigid digits dragging over your warm skin until invisible fingers part your folds and you feel an icy touch against your clit.

The feeling is electric, a numbing chill that makes your back bow and your head snap back against the pillows under you.

You gasp as you feel it slide lower, and then the gentle press of a finger against your dripping entrance. The feeling of your warm slick cooling under the mysterious touch makes your body tremble. Not from fear- but because the feeling is euphoric.

You gasp as it sinks in farther, a second finger joining suit. You’re trembling as it picks up speed, back arching and pussy gushing. You can hear the slick sounds of your cunt being filled, but when you peek down you see no one, just the bulging of your panties as if someone’s hand is underneath them. You don’t care, why would you when the only thing you feel now is pleasure, the excruciating heat slipping from your mind with every chilly thrust.

I wish my house was haunted by a horny old ghost. I wish that when I was lying in bed touching myself that I would feel an invisible weight settle overtop of me. The fear would be out of this world. I would stop- fingers hovering over my clit before I feel a dull ache as the tip of his cock pushes against my leaky entrance. And then when he started fucking me? I would be inconsolable- breaths caught in my throat, hands clawing at my bedsheets because each time I go to hold him or push him away nothings there. The entire time he would bully his cock into me I would feel like I was slipping farther and farther from reality. I want that BAD.

thinking about having a werewolf boyfriend who can’t help but knot me every full moon. He always insists it’s an accident, that he just got too out of control. But I would never care. I would just lay there and let him pump his warm gooey cum into me and stretch my pussy around his knot.

The monster under your bed doesn’t like listening to you and your boyfriend have sex. It grates at its nerves so much so that the second your boyfriend leaves and you’re tucked back into bed does the monster come out of hiding. It waits, listening for the sounds of your soft snores and even breathing before it crawls out, matted black fur dragging across your skin as it slips off your blankets to touch your irresistibly soft skin.

It tugs your panties to the side, long slimy tongue sliding past its lips with a possessive hunger. The tip of its tongue slides between your puffy used pussy lips and into the wet gummy cavern that makes its cock throb painfully. It eats your boyfriend’s cum out of you, not stopping until there’s no trace left.

Only then does it allow its cock to slip free, heavy, hard and aching to be inside your warmth. It’s clawed hands hold you plush thighs apart as the thick pointed tip of its cock pressed against your entrance before pushing in with an inhuman growl as you sleep soundly under it.